


Machines are easy

by longphrases_and_commas



Series: We're still friends, right? [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Chronic Pain, Gen, I Blame Tumblr, Kind of a fix up?, Little bit of angst, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, They're really not good at communication, i think that's all, midnight talks, they both deserved BETTER
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-13
Packaged: 2019-05-21 18:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14920727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longphrases_and_commas/pseuds/longphrases_and_commas
Summary: A phantom limb is the sensation that an amputated or missing limb is still attached. Approximately 60 to 80% of individuals with an amputation experience phantom sensations in their amputated limb, and the majority of the sensations are painful.Of all the people in the Avengers complex, was Tony who wound up finding Bucky going through one of his crisis. None of them want to be there, talking to each other in late hours of the night, but maybe that's all there is to do.





	Machines are easy

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, guys!  
> The story of how this little thing came to be is a tad bit confusing, but it involves a tumblr post, a Voltron headcanon and my 285th watch of Civil War.  
> So, while everyone is out there trying to heal their Infinity War wounds, I'm still here, crying about Civil War.  
> This is obviously not canon (not sure it counts as an AU) and it happens in a happy universe where Tony doesn't flip the fuck out on Bucky and Steve on Siberia and they just take down Zemo together.
> 
> Also, this is my first official thing in English, so please be nice and point out grammar errors with kindness.
> 
> I hope you all like it!

It came and went as it pleased. Mostly, it would just be a weird tingling feeling that he could easily push to the back of his mind. Some days, though, it was excruciating and mind numbing, and all he could do was wait it’d stop. This was one of those days.

He had read about amputees that continued to feel their lost limbs–the correct term for it, he found out, was ghost limb's pain–but no one was really in the same situation as him. Bucky didn't understand how it worked. Hell, most of the time he didn't even want to think about it. But the arm was attached to him and it didn’t seemed to be going anywhere soon. So, when the waves of pain came crashing, he would just sit in whatever isolated corner he could find and wait.

The worst of all was that the whole thing always left him feeling lonely. He had promised himself there would be no lies, no omissions. He would let Steve know about the good and the bad stuff alike. But most of the times he felt like there was too much bad stuff; and it was a burden he didn’t want to put in anyone else’s shoulders. So, he’d rehearse speeches about how he felt when times seemed nice, and backed out of them as soon as he looked into his friend’s eyes. It was painful enough having to witness the way Steve seemed to sunk a little every time he realized they were no longer those boys from Brooklyn. They were both a messed up mix of two different personas at that point, and Bucky wasn't sure about he felt about how his mix turned out.

Weirdly, –or not weirdly at all, he could never decide–the person who always offered a friendly shoulder when it came to Winter Soldier talk was Natasha. So, there were times when they just laid in the training room, speaking in Russian, discussing their fucked up pasts and less fucked up presents. Some days were happy, and they’d laugh at their misfortunes and Nat would tell stories about how her missions with Clint were consistently shit storms from start to finish. Other were angry, closed fists and deathly glares while screams were caught in their throats. And, of course, there were the ones that were just plain sad, and she would wipe her tears with a smirk on her face as he leant on her, shoulders barely touching and heads supported against each other’s.

Bucky clenched his jaw. He wasn't sure how it was possible, but the metal felt like it was warm, or maybe his body was too cold. Maybe he had finally lost his mind.

The conference room was dark, a bunch of foldable chairs propped up against the faraway wall and the last person to speak had left a clipboard at the stand. He was there every time he had the chance, sneaking whenever he felt like no one would notice his absence. The big thing about that room in particular was the view. Behind the stand, instead of a wall, there was a huge ceiling to floor window that made the crammed space seem a lot bigger. The moonlight came through it to reflect on his arm and he could see how far the terrain of the complex extended.

The new Avengers HQ had a lot of spare rooms and Bucky settled into one of them upon arrival without much thinking, only to later regret the unusual architecture and the lack of windows. But, all things considered, the complex felt a lot like a home–Sam would tease him, Vision would cook awful food and Wanda would cook some less awful food, him and Steve would run laps around the terrain, Barton would practice God knows what on the rooftop, Pepper would appear out of nowhere and scowl at mostly everyone, Rhodes would show up with a bunch of military artillery of all sorts, Natasha would make him do things for her because of “you know, that time you shot a bullet through me”, and the Parker kid would sometimes drop by and force them all into watching what he considered to be old movies–and he was thankful to Stark for letting him stay. Even then, their relationship was troubled to say the least, and the sound of Tony's voice coming down the hall made him spring back to reality with a new wave of insufferable pain.

–Barnes?

Bucky waited in silence.

–Come on, Barnes, I'm not in the mood for a game of tag–Stark huffed. –Don't worry, I don't want to chat and pour my heart out and braid each other's hair. Cap just asked me to check up on you.

There was a split second when Bucky considered keeping quiet and letting the other continue searching, then going to his room whenever he didn't feel like dying again. But the part of him that couldn’t help but respond to Cap’s name got all jittery and he let out a muffled response.

–Here.

Steps came back up the hall and the door swung open with a loud thud against the wall. _God, what was he wearing?_

–There you are–Tony said, with that casual sarcasm that was both parts enticing and infuriating. –Could've at least left a note, you know. “If someone wants me, I'll be brooding in the conference room. Please, do not disturb. Love, Barnes.”

The soldier resisted the urge to tell Stark to shove it and cradled the robotic arm, even though it made it feel worse. Something about the act made Tony's snarky face tone down a bit and he stepped into the room.

–Is everything okay there, buddy?

–Where's Steve? –his voice came out a growl.

He knew he didn't have to ask. Steve would be fine, but it was that or having to explain how sometimes he could feel his old arm.

–Steve's fine. Hill called in asking for backup and he had to leave. She didn’t want to tell me what the fuss was about, though. Don’t know why, but I always get the feeling she doesn’t like me very much. –Tony furrowed his brows, then clicked his tongue and shrugged, dismissing the thought. –Anyway, he’s got Clint and Nat with him. They’ll probably be back by morning.

Bucky nodded. He should be out there too, not balling up in fetal position and having someone check up on him like a kid. Deep breaths through the nose, long blows through the mouth. He could feel cold sweat dripping down his back, under his arms and in his scalp–he kept forgetting to cut his hair.

Tony changed his weight from one foot to another. He was a little too fidgety for Bucky’s taste–always playing around with something, eyes darting from one screen to another, his movements never really precise. But maybe that was just the lack of a military training. Yet, the Iron Man was a combatant–and a hell of a good one.

–Okay, forget that thing I said–he announced, pulling one of the metal chairs and dragging it loudly to where the other sat on the floor. –Spill it, Edward Elric.

–I’m sorry?

–Shit, I keep forgetting you were intermittently a popsicle for the past six decades. –He laughed a faint laugh. –It’s actually pretty funny if you get it. But forget about that–he gestured like swatting something away. –Wanna talk about what you’re doing here? Like, in the dark. Alone. Covered in sweat. Hanging onto that… –he pointed at the arm–thing like your life depends on it.

–Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s actually none of your damn business.

–And he yet again shows his claws. You know, —Tony made a pause, spun a ring around his finger, let out a little sigh. Fidgety. –I’m really trying here. It’s not exactly easy for me either.

Bucky closed his eyes. He knew they would come to this one time or another. Everyone avoided talking about what happened, including Steve, choosing to pretend he wasn’t being housed by a man whose parents he killed. Stark might be an asshole, but he deserved some kind of closure–even if that closure came in the form of the two of them talking about ghost limbs in the dark.

Baby steps were better than nothing.

–My arm feels weird–he explained, simply. Definitely an oversimplification, but a start nonetheless.

–If you want, I could look into it. Not to critique or anything, but it seems like it could use some updati…

–Not, –Bucky interrupted–this arm.

–Oh. –Tony furrowed his brows, then shed a not so discrete look at his right arm, clenching his prosthetic. Then something gleamed in his eyes. – _Oh_. That’s…that’s new, for sure.

–Yeah. –Barnes agreed, relieved no explaining was necessary.

–But I think I have an idea of how it feels.

He turned to the billionaire, snarky remark on the tip of his tongue, and his attention was drawn to a faint glow. Even under a couple layers of clothing, whatever the hell Stark had shoved on his chest was still visible. _Right_. He had forgotten he was talking to the man who literally had had a reactor built into him. Looking at it, Bucky couldn’t turn away. It was just threatening enough so you knew it was a weapon, but it was weirdly...enticing. Also, it probably was just his mind playing tricks, but it seemed like the light that the apparatus emitted flickered oh-so-slightly and it made him feel like he was looking at someone’s exposed heart.

–Machines–Tony tapped the device twice, evoking a tiny glassy clink–are easy to work with. They are all basically the same. Engines, circuits, buttons and levers. Bodies, however, are a delicate, strange, horrible thing. It will accept something you give it to replace what you've lost, but it’ll never stop telling you that it doesn’t feel quite right.

–And once you get rid of it…

–You realize you can’t live without it, yes. –He snorted. –Is it that obvious?

–Well, it takes one to know one.

A pause.

–So, you have considered it. Getting rid of the arm, I mean.

–Oh, more times than I can count.

–Even if it didn’t solve your weird feeling problem?

Bucky had nearly forgotten about why he was there in the first place. His ghost limb tingled and pulsated but it wasn’t anything too crazy. Who could’ve thought talking to Stark was what it would take to calm it down?

–Even then. This–he let go of the arm and slowly opened and closed the prosthetic hand–is just one in a list of things I’d rather not have to deal with. At least not now when it’s been not long since I was... _him_.

Tony smiled and it was hard to tell if he was laughing with or at him.

–Do you really think the solution is just getting it out?

Bucky shrugged.

–Without it I’m just a normal guy with bad memory.

–You weren’t just a guy before Hydra plugged that in and you definitely won’t ever be just a guy after it comes off. –Again, very hard to tell whether this was a compliment or a criticism.

–Yeah, but before I wasn’t a couple of words away from becoming a mindless assassin–he said, through gritted teeth.

–Just stop tip-toeing around it, Barnes–Tony asked, a little more harshly. – _Say it._ Call him...or you, whatever, by name.

Silence. How did they get there? Everything seemed to be going nicely a few seconds before, but maybe the two of them just weren’t supposed to work together.

–Winter Soldier–Bucky murmured, and the words sounded weird coming out of his own mouth.

–Yes. You didn’t choose that name, but it’s yours. And it’s not because you fell off a train and lost your arm so they gave you another one. It’s because you did stuff. If Hydra came back right now, said ‘my bad, guys’ and took your arm away, it wouldn’t undo all you did. _So own it._ You’re not some machine. You’re you. –His mind clicked. _Oh_. This wasn’t about him. Wow, Tony really had a way of making things about himself.

–It’s just...some things are easier to own than others.

–I know–Stark mumbled under his breath. –Specially when it comes to people, it’s hard. –A pause. A little fidgeting with the colorful lapels on his shiny silky robe. –Shit.

He got off the chair and walked a couple steps away. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a long sigh.

_He’s aging fast_ , the soldier thought, of the sudden. It was hard to forget based on the way he acted, but the Iron Man was on the older side of the team. He didn’t want to do that anymore, and you could see it in the little things–in the bags under his eyes, the cups of coffee he drank everyday and the panic attacks he had and thought no one was watching. And when he had tried making the Avengers not necessary anymore, it backfired quite spectacularly. But he wouldn’t quit. No, he had that same gleam in his eyes that Steve had, that belief that everything could be fixed if he just tried hard enough.

Steve had already paid the price for his naiveness–spending sixty years buried in a glacier only to wake up and find the world still a mess was quite the wake-up call. And when it seemed like truth, justice and the American way were out of question he wanted to go off the grid and reformulate himself. Tony, however, had too paid the price, and yet continued to fight the same. If he couldn’t save the world, he’d at least make sure the whole damn world had watched him try.

There was too much Howard in him, and Bucky was sure that Stark thought the same. And he knew he _hated it_. But there was a lot of him that was Maria and there were things that were probably Jarvis, and even Peggy too, and that made the big difference.

–I’m sorry, Stark. –He saw the other’s body stiffen, shoulders coming up and hands turning into fists, but he remained with his back turned to him. –I know it changes nothing, but I’m actually sorry.

The inventor took a shaky deep breath. His body visibly loosened up. With his movements still a little rigid, he ran fingers through his hair a couple of times, turning his sophisticated quiff into a casual “I just woke up but I’m still hotter than you” look.

–That wasn’t you.

–If it hadn’t been me, I wouldn’t remember everything.

–If it was you, why didn’t you stop yourself then? –he shouted, with a cracking voice. –You knew him. Yet you looked him in the eyes and did...that. Fuck, it’s been months and I still can’t get that scene out of my head.  
Then he turned around, tears in his bloodshot eyes and eyebrows furrowed in a mix of anger and confusion.

–Why didn’t you stop yourself? –he cried out and covered his mouth with his hand, turning away again.

Bucky swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure how good he had been at dealing with tears before, but he surely wasn’t great with them now. Specially when they came from a seemingly unbreakable man. One he barely spoke to.

His pain started escalating again. It was like a humming, except he could feel it, crawling from the graft point in the shoulder joint to the very ends of the fingers. _Exceptional timing, really._ He groaned. Clutching the prosthetic against his chest, he spit out:

–It was like being stuck inside my own head. –He wasn’t sure the Avenger was even listening, but it was worth the shot. –I knew what I was doing. All the time. And it’s not like I was literally being controlled. Someone ordered I did stuff and I did it. _Deliberately_. But, at the same time, it felt as if I was just a spectator, trapped in a suffocating room in my head, watching myself do these things through a fogged window. –Now that he had started to talk, it was hard to slow it down. So, he kept going, tripping at the words and mumbling like a maniac. –There were some triggers that brought me back, I know. I remember. And them...Hydra, I mean...Hydra had to keep cleaning them out because I kept running at these bumps every now and then and making mistakes and they couldn’t afford to make mistakes. So, the window continued there, but smaller and smaller every time they erased something until all I could think about was whatever I was told to think. That day, Howard could’ve been a stranger and it would make no difference. The part of me that was on control didn’t knew who he was anymore. And even if it did, I don’t think it would’ve cared.

Tony turned around slowly. The tip of his nose was bright red. He bit the inside of his lip.

–Steve doesn’t know this–he said, midway through an affirmation and a question.

–No.

–But now I do. Why?

–I don’t know. You deserved it, I think. For better or for worse.

–I’m sorry too. For screaming. It’s...–he trailed off.

–Hard–the soldier completed. –Specially when it comes to people.

–Yeah.

There was a pause. He tried slowly rotating his left shoulder. It almost felt normal. He looked up, mouth opened to say something he didn’t even know what was and saw Stark looking down at him. Watching his arm–the way the light bounced off of it like it was freshly polished, how the metal scales were perfectly notched to fit over each other. Bucky supposed that it probably looked like a mechanical dream came true.

–I’m sorry, but I have to say it–Stark shrugged. –It looks cool as fuck, Barnes.

–Bucky–the other blurted out. –Just Bucky is fine.

Stark smiled. Oh, so _that_ was how a genuine one looked.

–Well, in this case I am Tony, then. –he put out his hand. Took Bucky a second to realize he was offering a handshake. He grasped the offered hand and Tony pulled him up off the ground.

–Nice to meet you, Tony.

**Author's Note:**

> Two things that are worth mentioning:  
> 1- when I list all the Avengers, I don't list Scott and Hope. That's because I think Scott would've gone home after CW, to be with his family and everything, so he wouldn't be around the complex that much.  
> 2- there's a moment where I mention Tony probably has things that are from Peggy, and that's because I kind of hate the fact that Marvel chose to make her 100% Steve's person and ignore the fact that she was one of Howard's closest friends. So, in my world, Margaret Carter was Tony's aunt Peggy and they did a lot of fun stuff together. Let me have my dreams.
> 
> Also, if Tony comes out as kind of an asshole, I'm really sorry. 100% not my intention, but it looks like it at some points. He's just not very good at communication and my boy has had some rough days.
> 
> Again, hope y'all liked it, and all constructive criticism is more than welcome!  
> Lots of love.


End file.
